The Butterfly Effect
by LeeOfHermes0330
Summary: ""Have you done it recently?" he asked, eyes searching mine. I sighed, tugging the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles." Aisling Finnegan is at the Weasley Christmas dinner, just like every year. But this year, things are different. One shot. T for mentions of self-harm. (Not graphic, more like implications.) Albus/OC


**This story's a little different, and a little sad...**

**So this is about the Butterfly Effect. The Butterfly Effect is when you draw a butterfly on your hand, or wrist, or somewhere else, whenever you want to harm yourself. You aren't allowed to do anything until the butterfly fades away, and normally, the urge is gone by then. If it isn't you draw another butterfly. It helps if you name the butterfly after someone you care about - I alternate with mine.**

**Someone else can also draw it on you, if they know what you're going through, and the same rules apply. No self-harming until after the butterfly is gone, you can name it, etc. **

**Remember if you ever need someone, I'm right here, and I understand completely. So here's my story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you see related to Harry Potter franchise. If I did I would be a middle-aged, British, millionaire. I am a broke teenaged girl living in the USA. Please don't sue.**

**Her name (Aisling) is pronounced Ash-ling BTW. Her nickname, Ais, is pronounced Ash.**

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Just like every year, my family was invited to the Burrow for Christmas. I don't know why we went, but this year I was glad. This year, I was actually excited. My cousin, Scorpius would be there, as would my boyfriend - Albus Potter.

Not that people _knew _we were dating. We had both decided to keep it a secret. I was, after all, incredibly shy - part of the reason I hated the fact that my family was invited to the Burrow, because he was "an old family friend" or whatever. Plus, as I had pointed out (for Al was completely fine with the entire school, probably even the world, knowing that we were dating, and I was the one who had wanted to keep it a secret), it would do his reputation no amount of good to date a Hufflepuff.

This year was also the first time that my older brother, Sean, wasn't with us. He was three years older than my twin, Colin, and I were, having graduated from Hogwarts last year. Sean was now a part of Puddlemere United's reserve team, and he couldn't be happier.

This year was the first year we arrived with my father's girlfriend, Lavender Brown. Though he had brought many girlfriend's to parties in the past eight years since he divorced our mother (good riddance anyway, she was mean to us), this was his first really, truly, serious girlfriend. This was also the first one with a son, Alex, who was a third year Gryffindor. We had known Lavender for years - she, too, had come to gatherings such as this - but dating our father was definitely a new thing.

This was the first year that anyone had ever known about the scars on my wrist, too, but that's not the point.

We arrived with parcels wrapped neatly in unassuming red paper, with big green bows for our respective Secret Santas tucked under our arms, at around four o' clock. Just like every year, we were among the first families to arrive. The five of us were welcomed warmly by Molly Weasley, Sr. (She went, unfailingly, by Mrs. Weasley, leaving the many Mrs. Weasleys married to her sons to go by first name.) After a brief hello to the Potters, the three Weasley couples already there, and the Malfoys - thank goodness, that meant Scorp was here - Alex, Colin, and I hurried up the stairs to join the other kids.

Alex soon disappeared into Percy's old bedroom on the second floor, where I could see Hugo and Lily waiting anxiously for his arrival, as well as – oddly enough – Allie Dursley. I knew the older kids would all be upstairs in Ron's old room, which was where Colin and I were expected to go, but I stopped on the third floor landing.

Colin was halfway up the next flight of stairs before he noticed I wasn't with him. He glanced back at me. "You comin' Lin?" he asked, only sounding half interested. I grimaced at the hated nickname, but didn't comment, and waved him on.

"Go 'head," I replied, "I'll be up in a bit. Usin' the jack, yeah?" Colin rolled his eyes.

"Don' be long," he said, and hurried up the stairs. As soon as he was gone, I pulled out my cell phone to text Albus – it's 2021, wizard's are starting to catch up, technology wise. Starting. Barely.

_I'm here, fakin trip to the jack. XX - Ais _

It took a whole thirty seconds for him to reply. _On my way down. Love u. ~ Al_

Within a few moments, I saw the familiar head of black hair that belonged to my boyfriend of two months.

"Ais!" he said, reaching the landing. I smiled at him, and he walked over, pulling me into a safe, warm hug.

"Hey Albus," I whispered, lifting up onto my toes to kiss his cheek.

"I missed you," he mumbled into my hair. I giggled a bit.

"Al, its only been a week," I said, "But I missed ya too." We stayed like that for only another minute, him with his on mine, me with my face pressed against his chest, before we had to pull away. I started to walk to the stairs, but he caught my arm, pulling me closer.

"Have you done it recently?" he asked, eyes searching mine. I sighed, tugging the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles.

"Albus, this really isn't the time or the place," I started, "Plus, d'ya think I'd have told ya?" AL shrugged.

"Sure," he said, "But that wasn't the question. The question was: have you done it?" I avoided his eyes, and he frowned. "Aisling," he said, sounding upset.

"Albus, please," I whispered, blinking back tears. He sighed, and dug around in his pocket.

"Fine," he replied, pulling out a thick black permanent marker. He takes my left hand, and moves the soft material away. After uncapping the marker with his teeth, he draws a butterfly on the back of my hand.

"What's it's name?" he asks me. I think for a moment, before smiling, and whispering, "Al." He smiles back.

"And you won't do it as long as Al's there? If you want to do it after he fades, you'll draw another one?" he asks me. I shrug, and nod. "Good," he says, kissing me on the forehead. "Now go on before they get suspicious."

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**So, yeah, there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you want anything more about Aisling, Finnegan I've got plenty of ideas. (Jack is Irish slang for bathroom, by the way. And if you're Irish, I'm sorry if I brutally murdered your accent in writing or like, used the slang wrong or something. I'm American, so I don't actually know...)**

**Love you all, thanks for reading. If you ever need anything, PM me, I'm here to help. I know what it's like... I have the scars to prove it.**

**-Lee xx**


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